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Frost, however, seems thoughtful.
“Can she do it?” he asks. “It wouldn’t be easy, making a passable fake.”
“She can do it,” I confirm, and I genuinely believe that’s true. I’ve seen her work; there’s a wide range of styles and technical abilities on clear display. “Making the forgeries isn’t the problem. Selling them is, which is where you two come in.”
Gallo sighs. “We should just kill her and be done with it.”
“We can kill her later,” Frost says. “I’m interested.”
With that, I have them. Gallo will make more noise, he’ll complain and delay, but eventually he’ll play along. Which is good, because his family makes their real fortune selling stolen goods, from art to electronics. Meanwhile, Frost’s got a huge network of filthy rich collector friends who wouldn’t mind breaking a few laws to get their hands on something truly rare and historical.
And all of this will be fake.
Orchestrated from my house in the desert.
Masterminded by myself.
Created by Hellie.
There are a dozen ways this can go wrong, but I was raised to go after profit no matter the stakes. Risk is acceptable, so long as the risk can be managed.
And I believe I can manage Hellie Accardi, whether she wants it or not.
Chapter6
Hellie
Iget a fitful night of sleep before waking up early. I stay in bed, still unwilling to accept my current reality, but eventually I have to use the bathroom, take a shower, and put on my old, dirty clothes. That’s something I’ll have to figure out.
But for now, I check the door, and it’s unlocked.
Erick said I’d have freedom in the house, and I can’t help but test those boundaries. I sneak out into the hall, but instead of going down toward the art studio, I take the stairs to the first floor.
The place is enormous. At least two wings, furnished with modern, expensive paintings and decorations, and entirely empty. There’s nobody else, not a guard, not a maid, nobody. I poke my head into a sitting room, a pool room, a media room, a smoking room, a drinking room; so many rooms I start to lose track. Finally, I find the kitchen in the back of the house, and nearly let out a shriek.
An older woman’s in there, kneading dough. “Oh, hello,” she says. “You must be Heloise.”
I stare at her, my heart racing. She’s shorter than me, stout, round, gray hair, wrinkled face, wearing a white shirt and simple jeans, her sleeves rolled to her elbows. She slaps the dough, turns it, kneads it, and eventually shapes it into a bread pan.
“Um, hi,” I say. “Hellie.”
“Hellie,” she repeats. “Very pretty. I’m Marina, Erick’s housekeeper and cook. There’s also a cleaning staff but they only come once per week, though maybe they’ll come more now that you’re here.” She laughs to herself, a pleasant sound, and pops the loaf into the oven. “Are you hungry? I can make you whatever you like.”
“No, sorry, I didn’t realize there was anyone else here.” I laugh awkwardly, shuffling from foot to foot. Can I ask this woman for help? Does she know who I am and what I’m doing here? “Do you know how I can get out of here?”
She gives me a sympathetic shake of her head. “Sorry, dear, you know that’s not possible. Erick gave me strict rules to follow regarding you. Now, how about some coffee? Maybe eggs? I can make an omelet if you like.”
“No, thank you.” I turn away, my stomach feeling sick. This woman is aware that I’m a prisoner here, and yet she seems completely okay with it. She seems kind, like a gentle grandmother, but anyone who works for a guy like Erick must be cold-blooded. “I think I’ll keep looking around.”
“Feel free, dear,” she says. “I’ll be here. Come find me if you need anything.”
I leave the kitchen as the smell of baking bread starts to fill the room. I’m shaking, my stomach a knotted mess, my heart racing. What sort of bizarre upside-down world am I in right now? Can it really be completely fine that I’m being held against my will? Anger fills me all over again, anger at Erick for stealing me away, anger at my father, anger at my situation. I want to scream, but what will that get me?
Instead, I find a back door.
It leads to a patio. A beautiful stone patio overlooking a gorgeous swimming pool. There are a few plants, mostly low desert shrubs, immaculately landscaped. I crunch down on gravel and stare out past the fence. There’s desert straight back, rolling hills, red rocks, and nothing else.
An insane idea occurs to me.
